


Obscured

by barebranches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Introspection, M/M, Non-sexual, One Shot, POV First Person, Wistful, castiel's voice sounds like wanting sex and never getting it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 03:57:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barebranches/pseuds/barebranches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wish I knew if in that moment he could see me as I could see him. Castiel's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obscured

**Author's Note:**

  * For [circular_infinity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/circular_infinity/gifts).



> Beta'd by the wonderful and clear-eyed circular_infinity, who introduced me to Supernatural to begin with. Set in no particular time post season 4 (spoilers for s4), with vague references to season 6.

 

I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition, and I wish I knew if in that moment he could see me as I could see him.

 

I have touched many souls, human and angel and demon and other. I have read the truth on them, healed them, cast them out. I have touched the soul of my own vessel, and I have held Leviathan within me.  
I do not say he is better or purer, or more different than any other soul is from one to another. But I gripped him tight, and then _I_ was different.  
I thought he could see my true form, as I had seen him, naked and without the pretense of mortal shell or words. He was not my vessel, but surely, that link between us could mean nothing else.  
He cannot. It would destroy him.

 

So I come to him in a human form, and speak in human words, and wonder what he thinks I am when he sees me.

 

Sometimes I think he almost sees me, or wants to. I am probably mistaken. Despite thousands of years of study humans are still so difficult to comprehend. Many angels and many demons claim to understand humanity, but if they do they understand only the broad sweep, the patterns and the great swells of history and the _idea_ of mankind.  
No one, I think, understands the tiny detail that is an individual human. Not us, not even themselves.  
Perhaps that is why my Father loves them so.  
Perhaps it is why I do.  
Sometimes I think he wants to see me, as I want him to. Sometimes I think he looks at me as he does his brother. I have many brothers and sisters, but I still am baffled by his conduct. He would sell his immortal soul to save his brother, let the world burn to save his brother, but when he speaks to him, he is always angry. He is often angry with me, as well, yet has fought and bled and risked his life to save me.  
Perhaps it is how he thinks it is to be done.  
If so, I would prefer an alternate method of communicating our shared context, but sometimes I think that he finds words as limiting as I do.

 

So I come to him in a human form and struggle with human words, and watch him sometimes when he sleeps.

 

He calls me by a name no one else had ever spoken. I do not understand why humans use different forms of the proper names of a thing – no angel would do such a thing, and demons only do it to mock humans, and Leviathan came before names. When he calls me by the name he gave me, though, it feels like my name, feels closer than skin, feels like he knows me.

 

So I come to him as a human, and speak in words, and watch him sometimes when he sleeps because then the veil is thinner, the pretense is lowered just enough, and sometimes I think I can see him again. The way I saw him when I gripped him tight, and knew that I would not ever see the same way again.


End file.
